


Dugout Dry Humping

by stubliminalmessaging



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 5x10 missing scene, Boys Kissing, Coming In Pants, Dry Humping, M/M, So much kissing, dugout sex aw yiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 14:44:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3613812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stubliminalmessaging/pseuds/stubliminalmessaging
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey tried to give as good as he got but Ian was on a mission (to make Mickey come in his pants, apparently).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dugout Dry Humping

**Author's Note:**

> haha can you tell i'm obsessed with dry humping

                The fence shook when Ian and Mickey leaned against it and it reminded Ian of other times when it had been shaking for completely different reasons. Compared to the monochromatic day he’d been having before coming here with Mickey (aside from the little experiment he’d conducted with the flat top at the diner) he was suddenly full to bursting with sensation. The cuts on his face stung, especially the ones on his lower face where the beer had sprayed and gotten into them. He could feel his blood, warm and wet in the cooling early fall air. His chin was slick with beer and the can felt so cold against his lips. He felt feverish and hot all of a sudden; so much so that he realized he’d nearly forgotten how warm his own body was in the dull greyness his life had become.

 

As they caught their breaths he saw Mickey grin out of the corner of his eye and he couldn’t help but smile too. He swallowed down a burp from the carbonation of the beer and quietly told Mickey; “First time I’ve felt anything since – uh...”

 

                He couldn’t meet Mickey’s eyes but he knew his boyfriend was looking at him, concerned but he quickly shook off the expression and smiled crookedly, swaying a little as he stepped in closer to Ian.  He got a rough hand in Ian’s hair and commented; “You look like a fuckin’ wet rat.”

 

                A second later Ian was smiling against his mouth as he closed the gap between them and kissed him. His hand ran through Ian’s hair and cradled the side of his head as they met, practically tongue-first. One of Ian’s hands fluttered a little at gripping Mickey’s shoulder and he held his injured one aloft, focusing on the sensation of kissing Mickey and unwilling to bring the pain from his hand back to the forefront.

 

                Mickey pulled back just long enough to gasp; “Take your fucking jacket off,” before he was pushing at it, shoving it off Ian’s shoulders and lightly butting their noses together. He leaned back and shrugged his own off then he was on Ian again, stepping in to push him against the fence but Ian urged him back. Mickey went where Ian directed him, one hand fumbling with Ian’s belt while the other slid up around the back of his neck to tug him down and reconnect their mouths.

 

                Mickey tried to keep stripping Ian for about five seconds until he gave up because Ian was pushing him against the fence and shoving his legs apart. He slotted a thigh between them and pushed it against Mickey’s crotch, urging him up on his toes to ride his leg. Mickey’s breath stuttered out as he clutched at Ian’s shoulders. He tried to give as good as he got but Ian was on a mission (to make Mickey come in his pants, apparently).

 

                Frustrated by the lack of contact with Ian’s body, Mickey tried to pull him in closer but Ian held him tight and silenced his protests with his mouth. Mickey held on tight, moaning and grunting against Ian’s mouth as he ground his thigh against Mickey’s dick.

 

                Snaking his arms around Ian let Mickey pull himself higher on Ian’s body and press their torsos together and when he had the chance he swung one of his legs over Ian’s hip. This let him scoot close enough to rub off against Ian’s crotch. It was better that way, when Mickey could feel Ian’s hard cock through his pants.

 

                They moaned in unison, sounds muffled by their mouths and Ian shifted, settling his hands firmly on Mickey’s ass. He held Mickey against him and they rolled their hips together. The fence was rattling again like Ian had thought about before.

 

                Mickey panted into his mouth and gasped; ‘fuck, I’m close,’ and so Ian held him harder and rutted against him with more intent. Mickey kept an arm slung around Ian’s neck and used the other to rub Ian off through his pants. He clutched at Ian’s hair and shook through his orgasm, rutting erratically against Ian’s thigh. Mickey kept mindlessly stroking Ian’s clothed cock and he kissed Ian quiet when he came too.

 

                Ian had never come in his pants before and it made him feel more teenage than he had in years. It wasn’t nearly as gross and uncomfortable as he’d thought it would be but that might have a lot to do with him being drunk.

 

                “How have we never done that before?” Ian panted, leaning his temple against Mickey’s and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

 

                “Probably ‘cause it’s gonna be a fuckin’ mess later,” Mickey bitched and Ian snorted.

 

                “More like you get pissy if you don’t have a dick in you,” he teased and Mickey shoved at him, grinning and stepping away from the fence.

 

                “You wanna finish the beer and then head back?” Mickey asked and Ian smirked because he didn’t deny anything. “If you can get it up again we can go for round two.”

 

                “I don’t have a condom but I’ll eat you out,” Ian offered.

 

                “Sixty-nine, then,” Mickey decided, stooping down to pick up the backpack with the rest of the beer in it.

 

                “Whatever,” Ian mocked, taking a seat beside Mickey on the bench. “You get too distracted to suck my dick while I’m rimming you.”

 

                ”Take it as a fucking compliment,” Mickey told him, cracking open a beer and sucking the foam off, flushing high in his cheeks.


End file.
